Book 14: On Her Own Schedule

Maeve

I’ve heard some of my family say, albeit under their breath, that the old Maeve is back. The temperamental one. The rash and hard-headed on. The one with little patience and a tongue sharp enough to cut glass.

Sometimes I wonder if that’s all people think I am.

Maybe it’s for the best, I guess. Maybe I now understand why Blake hides his true self behind his powers. I… I had someone to be soft with once. It feels like a lifetime ago.

“You’re not even close,” Ginny, my midwife, says with a sigh. “Have you taken the herbs?”

“Religiously,” I grumble, and Jane, at my side, nods as Ginny smooths the fabric of a bright yellow nightgown–the only thing that fits me at all these days, back over the enormous rise of my belly.

“There are other things we can do, but she’s quite cozy in there as it stands,” Ginny says with a frustrated sigh. “You’re only a day past your due date, and I don’t give much stock to those anyway, but the clock